


Sunrise/sunset

by LeDiz



Series: The 48: StH 2020 [7]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Fishing, Gen, Growing Up, Male bonding and stuff, it's important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeDiz/pseuds/LeDiz
Summary: The act of catching the fish is not the point of going fishing. This is important.
Series: The 48: StH 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641913
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Sunrise/sunset

Alright. This was it. Today was the day.

Tom stared at his alarm clock and hated everything. Four twenty-seven in the damn morning and he was awake.

“Tom, honey,” Maddie mumbled, her arm reaching back to hit him, but she was too close to sleep to manage proper aim and barely touched his arm. “Did you fall back asleep?”

“No,” he grumbled.

“Are you getting up?”

He didn’t answer. It was four twenty-seven in the damn morning.

“You wanted to do this,” she reminded him.

He did. He still wanted to. But it was so early. Painfully early. He hadn’t got up this early since he was delivering newspapers to pay for Maddie’s tuition. And he wasn’t twenty-four anymore.

“Tom? Are you sure you’re not asleep?”

“I’m up,” he said, and awkwardly levered himself up onto his elbows. It felt like an accomplishment.

Maddie rolled over onto her back, though Tom couldn’t help noticing _her_ eyes were still closed. “I’m not suggesting this, because it will break both your hearts,” she murmured. “But I’m sure Sonic will understand if you can’t do this.”

“I can do it,” he grumbled, and just to prove the point he forced himself to throw back the blanket and swing his feet off the bed. The chill of the morning air immediately did double-duty in waking him up and making him regret every single one of the life choices that had led to him being awake and out of bed at four twenty… nine in the damn morning. “Oh, my god, why did I ever suggest this?”

“Mmm…” She hummed through a fond smile. “Something, something, real men fish, something.”

“That’s enough out of you, sleeping beauty,” he said, and shoved himself to his feet. He refused to admit the sound that came out of him was an old man groan.

Somehow, it was a hundred times worse when he opened the bedroom door and felt the vacuum of air that meant Sonic had just run off. He’d been waiting. Sonic was awake and had been waiting to see if Tom was going to follow through on his promise.

So he staggered into the bathroom, made a point of freshening up, and jabbed a finger at his reflection. “Quit being such a baby. You used to work eighteen hours a day on four hours of sleep. Suck it up, Sheriff.”

When he went back out into the hallway, a flash of blue told him Sonic had been hovering at the top of his ladder. But when Tom clambered up after him, the attic was still and dark, a ball of blankets on the bed making it look like Sonic was completely dead to the world. Tom rolled his eyes and pointedly knocked on the floor, letting Sonic make a show of slowly uncurling with a loud, theatrical yawn.

“Ugh… what do you want? It’s early…”

“Uh huh. Rise and shine, kid, we got a busy day,” he said, unable to completely hide his smile at Sonic’s sleepy blinking. Who knew where he’d learned it, but the kid was actually pretty good at the whole acting thing.

“What? No… it’s early, go away,” Sonic groaned, and pulled the blanket over his head. “I wanna sleep.”

“You can sleep on the way there. Up and at ’em!” And just to continue the charade, he thumped on the floor one more time before heading back down the ladder.

To literally no one’s surprise, Sonic appeared beside him, altogether too bright-eyed and excited for someone who’d just been asleep, before Tom had even reached the stairs. “You sure you’re up for this, old man?”

“Who’re you calling old?” he demanded. “Go brush your teeth while I make coffee. We’re driving and there’s a long way to go before sunrise.”

Sonic’s shoulders rose along with the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t say anything before immediately dashing off. A little more of Tom’s exhaustion faded, replaced by his own excitement and some slight guilt at postponing even a second of this trip.

It had started when they were having dinner last week, and Sonic commented that the salmon tasted different than he was used to. At first, it had been awkward, since normally when Sonic mentioned food he was ‘used to’, it usually meant leftovers he’d snatched from outdoor eateries or garbage cans, and no one particularly liked drawing attention to that. But then he’d commented that maybe he was just used to fresher fish – TV always said that fish tasted better when it was fresh.

Which was how they learned that Sonic knew how to fish, and did it fairly regularly.

Tom had decided then and there that he and Sonic needed to go on a fishing trip. It would be manly. It would be bonding. It would actually be legal. They needed some legal manly bonding time.

Maddie had outright cackled.

But as they drove through the dark streets and out onto the highway, Tom once again reminded himself that he didn’t care that it was cliché and kind of dumb. Obediently strapped into his seat, Sonic was wide-eyed and excited, in the quiet, breathless way that meant he was truly touched. It was the kind of excitement he’d once overflowed with over every home-cooked meal or movie night, but had slowly relaxed out of as days turned into weeks and months. Casual affection and care were still important, but they weren't unusual anymore. They weren't _exciting_.

Maddie had been right – Sonic would have forgiven him if Tom hadn’t been able to get out of bed today, because he knew Tom was busy and mornings were hard. He’d gotten used to the fact that Tom and Maddie only had so many hours in the week, and couldn’t just drop everything to spend time with him. Meanwhile, this was an entire day set aside just for Sonic and Tom to hang out. It was expensive. But if it hadn’t happened, Sonic would have been quietly devastated, and Tom would have hated himself for it.

He was looking forward to this too.

“So you usually went out to the river, right? Ever been out here?” he asked as they turned off the highway and onto the lake road.

Sonic glanced away from the window to smile at him. “A couple of times. Not often. Too many people on the road,” he said. “Knew I wouldn’t be able to find my way back if I went through the woods.”

He nodded. Sonic knew the Green Hills woods like the back of his hand, but when he ventured further he would always stick to the roads. It was a habit he was starting to break, which Maddie suspected was proof of him relaxing into a new normal – before, it had been important for Sonic to know his way back to his cave, and the stuff he’d collected. It was a small measure of stability that he didn’t need as much anymore.

“I’m gonna be honest with you: it’s been a while since I’ve been fishing,” Tom admitted. “I’m not sure what kind of fish we’ll see.”

“I’m betting it’s been a while since you’ve done any of this,” Sonic observed with a cheeky grin. “You aren’t much of a morning person, huh?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, there’s the fact you missed like three buttons on your shirt, and that you still haven’t noticed you’re drinking from Maddie’s ‘Dog Mama’ urn,” he said, and Tom tried very, very hard not to flinch or immediately check. He made a point of not doing so, just raising his eyebrows and flicking his hand at the road.

“Maddie and I don’t have our own things. It’s _our_ Dog Mama urn,” he said. “And for your information, part of going fishing is looking like a mess while you do it. This is just part of the costume.”

He could _feel_ Sonic’s amusement. “You put coffee in my cup, too.”

Okay, that was just a horrifying possibility, and Tom had to turn to peek at him. Sonic waggled the fire-engine red thermos that they had all agreed was A) Sonic’s, and B) not allowed to carry any more caffeine than a single mug of milky cocoa. “Black arabica, right here.”

“I did not,” he said. “I poured two coffees and one hot chocolate. I remember scooping out the cocoa.”

“Yeah, and I hope Maddie’s enjoying it, ’cause heck knows I’m not,” he said, and Tom snatched the thermos out of Sonic’s unresisting hand to take a drink.

Hard coffee. Double-shot. Oh no.

“Chill out, Donut Lord, I drank just enough to know what it is,” Sonic said before Tom could panic. “I don’t like coffee highs.”

“Which we are all thankful for,” he said, and grimaced before putting the thermos down in the drink holder. “You could’ve told me about the shirt.”

“I did. Just now. You’re welcome.”

Tom would have snarked back, but Sonic’s eyes had caught on something and he abruptly slipped out of the seatbelt to stand up where he could lean on the dash. “Hey, it’s starting!”

“What is?” Tom looked up as well, but he couldn’t see anything past the glare of the headlights on the dark road.

“C’mon, hurry up! We’re gonna miss it!” he insisted, so even though Tom had no idea what Sonic was talking about, he increased the pressure on the accelerator.

They got to the lake just as the first beam of light split the clouds past the tree line. Sonic barely waited for the car to stop before swinging out the window and clambering up onto the roof. “Yes! C’mon, Donut Lord, get up here!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said as he put the car in park. He took a second to rebutton his shirt before opening the car door and beginning the awkward process of hoisting himself up onto the roof. Yet another thing he immediately regretted. Even twenty-four year old Tom had been a little too big and heavy to do this, and he’d at least been dumb enough to not care about any damage it might do to his car. Worse, once he was settled, he realised he’d left both of the coffees behind.

But on the other hand, he looked up just in time to actually see another beam of light shoot up into the sky. It was the last one, too, before the singular beams spread and diffused into a general glow and the sun began its slow, peaceful climb. It was kind of beautiful.

The lake wasn’t exactly silent. Birds were already nattering away at each other, and the lake was lapping in the cool breeze that reminded him fall was very much on its way. But the world felt quiet. It felt still.

Even Sonic, hyperactive ball of blue lightning that he was, barely moved. His gaze was locked on the sunrise, only his ear twitching around to acknowledge Tom’s attention. He had that small, warm smile of his that always looked so private and personal that Tom almost felt guilty for seeing it.

So he leaned back on his hands and turned away to watch the sun instead.

“Beautiful, huh?” Tom murmured. “When I was a kid, I can’t tell you how many sunrises I saw. But I barely noticed them.”

Sonic made a soft noise of acknowledgement but didn’t properly answer. Honestly, the lack of talking was a little unnerving, and made Tom glance sideways again, but there was no hint as to what the kid was thinking. He hadn’t been so still and silent since the last time he was knocked out by an explosion.

So, despite the relative peace of the situation, Tom couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

“Hm?” Sonic blinked and looked at him. “Oh, uh, nothing, just… It’s just something I think every time I see one of these.”

“A sunrise?”

“Uh huh. It’s kinda dumb,” he said, and hesitated before looking back up at the sun creeping over the trees. “I just… there’s something about it that… The world—this world, I mean—it’s so big, y’know?”

Tom frowned, not really following. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just… think about it sometimes,” he said, and lowered his head, eyes falling to the lake in front of them instead. “The world is so huge. There are so many people in it. And I’m… not that big,” he said, and paused again, his eyes randomly flicking over the water before he continued, “All those worlds I’ve been to, each one of them is so big that I can’t really even _imagine_ how big they are.”

“Oh…kay…?”

“The world is so big, and the multi-verse is even bigger, and I’m so small. So small that, y’know, grand scheme of things, even with all my power, I shouldn’t even matter,” he said. “But there were – _are_ … there are people who think I do. And not just bad people. There are people who would—who have—risked their lives for me. Who care about me. That’s…” Sonic hesitated again, then looked up at him with that tiny, cautiously hopeful smile that had convinced Tom to help Sonic fulfill a bucket list in a seedy bar. “That’s pretty cool, you know?”

“The… sunrise makes you think all that?” he asked, and Sonic blinked, his smile fading as he apparently realised what a strange thing it was to think.

“I dunno. It’s just… I dunno.”

Tom inwardly winced and outwardly clenched his jaw in a small cringe. Maddie would smack him for taking away Sonic’s smile. He wanted to smack himself. To try and cover it up, he shrugged and turned back to the sun. “Well, whatever made you think it, you’re not wrong.”

He felt Sonic flinch, but didn’t get a chance to look around before he laughed softly and disappeared. By the time Tom had turned his head, Sonic was back, holding out Maddie’s Dog Mama urn. “You better drink up, old man. We got a big day and a load of fish to catch!”

As probably should have been expected, Sonic’s version of fishing wasn’t what Tom expected. He didn’t know why he was surprised – he and Maddie had gathered up all of Sonic’s stuff to create the Attic Cave, so he _knew_ Sonic didn’t have a fishing pole. But somehow it had never occurred to him that Sonic might fish in a way that made more sense to his abilities.

He stood in the water up to his knees, waited for the fish to accept his legs in their space, and then just grabbed a one right out of the water. The whole thing took about five minutes.

“Quick and easy,” he said, holding the writhing sunfish out for Tom’s shocked inspection. “Then I just spear it over a fire and boom, fried fish for dinner. But I know humans do it different.”

It was already a bigger fish than Tom had ever caught in his life. It was a little painful when Sonic happily threw it back and demanded Tom teach him how to fish ‘properly’.

In a much less surprising turn of events, Sonic initially found ‘proper’ fishing incredibly boring. He—like every kid going fishing for the first time—thought _catching_ fish was the actual point, and so got impatient with his lack of immediate success. But, while catching the fish was the goal, Tom explained, it wasn’t the _point_. The act of catching fish was only interesting as you selected bait and tackle, and when something actually bit the line. _Fishing_ was about kicking back in a chair, soaking in the fresh air and sunshine, and just hanging out. He had his coffee, which would become beer later, and Sonic had soda, and _they_ had jerky and chips. If all of that was gone by the time they called it a day, and they had agreed on a story for anyone who asked about how the biggest fish got away from them at the last second, then the trip had been successful.

Once he explained all that, Sonic was surprisingly good about the whole thing.

They chatted. Sonic caught him up on all the fourteen-year-old gossip in town, including play by plays of sports matches that had turned into a massive rivalry between the town’s best pitcher and shortstop. He also mentioned a tailgate that Tom and Maddie would have strongly objected to Sonic going to if they’d known about it. And he again revealed his obsession with plants, going into minute detail about what the community garden was up to despite supposedly having no interest in gardening himself.

Sometimes it was hard to follow who Sonic was talking about, because he still avoided using real names a lot of the time, but Tom was slowly learning. ‘Freckles’, for example, was the Eckstein kid, who Sonic had taken a particular interest in for some reason. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but Sonic was convinced he just needed a chance to prove himself.

In turn, Tom told him about some of his work, which somehow turned into telling him about all the old jobs he’d had back in the day. Sonic was enthralled by the idea of delivering newspapers for some reason, and so Tom made a mental note to get in touch with the distributor and suggest a part-time job.

There were long gaps, too, where they just sat back and enjoyed the quiet. They weren’t the only fishers out of course, though in standard courtesy the various groups all avoided each other, so Tom didn’t have to worry about outsiders seeing a blue alien kicking back with a fishing pole. He did watch them, though. He liked people watching.

It took him a surprisingly long time to notice Sonic wasn’t doing the same thing. He was napping.

In Tom’s defence, it was hard to figure out whether he was actually sleeping, because even the slightest noise or movement of his pole would have Sonic back up and attentive. But after a few moments’ inspection, Tom decided that was definitely what he was doing. He absently wondered if Sonic had gotten any sleep the night before, or if he was just napping because it was a relaxing day. He knew Sonic did sleep a lot – Maddie said napping was a hedgehog’s favourite past-time, but it still seemed strange to see.

But then, there was a lot that seemed strange about Sonic. Tom was a little shocked that Sonic legitimately seemed to be enjoying this whole thing. Normally, Sonic was just so hyperactive – too hyperactive to hang out on the side of a lake all day. But on the other hand, he _was_ just a kid. Kids were often hyper. Especially kids that hadn’t gotten enough attention when they were growing up. It didn’t really mean they, the person, were hyperactive as a rule.

It made Tom wonder what Sonic be like when he grew out of it. When he finished calming down and settling into their lives, what would he be like? Would he be different? _Could_ he be different? He was an alien hedgehog with super powers, capable of speeds Tom couldn’t really fathom. What kind of life could he have? What kind of person could he be?

The question rolled through Tom’s mind across most of the morning. He couldn’t quite bring himself to examine it properly, so it just kept rolling across his brain. Sonic kept surprising him. He didn’t even have a clue what was coming next, let alone when Sonic officially ‘grew up’. It was kind of a scary thought.

“So… it’s almost lunchtime,” he said as his watch ticked over to twelve. “We have caught… zero fish, so you wanna go show me how it’s done?”

Sonic sat up and blinked at him. “You mean just go and grab one? Why?”

“For lunch?” he suggested blankly, and Sonic blinked at him again.

“You mean to eat? Isn’t that cheating?”

“Cheating?”

“Yeah. I mean… _this_ is fishing,” he said, gesturing to their poles and lack of success. “What I did was to get food.”

“Yes…?”

“But… we don’t _need_ to eat the fish,” he pointed out, as if Tom was the one being weird. “We’ve got these snacks, and you brought your wallet, right? We passed a diner on the way here. We can just go get better food and come back.”

“Bet- wait, are you telling me that you think _diner food_ would be better than freshly caught fish roasted over an open wood fire?”

Sonic hesitated, glancing between Tom and the lake. He fiddled with the pole in his hands, his feet swayed, and he absently chewed on the inside of his lip. Suddenly, all the calm stillness was gone, replaced by his usual awkward fidgeting.

If that wasn’t a sign, Tom wasn’t sure what was.

“I mean,” Tom said, staring at him. He didn’t get it. “If you want me to run to the diner, I can. You can’t come in, though – too many strangers.”

“I know, I… I know,” he added quietly, and then abruptly set his jaw and looked up with a forced smile. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Lemme just –”

“Hold on,” he said, quickly reaching out to grab Sonic’s forearm and keep him still. “Sonic, do you want me to grab something from the diner?”

“I mean, I don’t – it’s fine. I don’t care. Either way,” he said, which was the closest thing Tom was going to get to ‘yes, please, and thank you for not making me eat the fish’.

“Don’t you like fresh fish?” he asked, and Sonic made a big show of scoffing.

“What? Of course I like fish! I eat fish all the time! Look at me, practically raised on fish! I’m all about seafood!” he said, before his gaze wandered off and he added, more quietly, “ _All_ about seafood. All the time. Reliable, that’s what it is. Of course I like fish. Who doesn’t like fish? You should stop talking now, you’re rambling. The point is I like fish.”

Which all meant Sonic _didn’t_ like it. Or if he did, it had gotten really old after however many years of fried fish being the only food he could get that wasn’t stolen or pilfered from a garbage can. And, thinking about it… yeah, Tom could absolutely understand that.

“I’ll be back in half an hour,” he said. “Do not catch anything while I’m gone or I am gonna be ticked.”

Sonic stared at him the whole time he was packing up to go, that slow, tiny smile rebuilding over his face, but he didn’t say anything. When Tom came back with burgers and fries, Sonic grinned and devoured them, all while drifting between saying thanks and insisting Tom didn’t have to go all that way when he could’ve just grabbed a fish for them.

“You ever catch anything aside from fish?” Tom asked as they ate. “I know we have rabbit in the woods.”

“Yeah, but they’re way more work to cook and eat,” Sonic pointed out. “You cook a fish for long enough, you don’t need to do anything. Even the scales aren’t a big deal.”

Tom decided now was not the time to freak out over how dangerous that was, or wonder how Sonic had survived ten years without choking or dying of some horrible gut-borne bacteria.

“Okay, but we still need to bring Maddie back a fish. Otherwise I’m never gonna hear the end of it,” he warned, and Sonic grinned.

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

They ended up talking about food. For… much too long, Tom decided later, until he remembered how much he loved food now, and how that love had mellowed out over time, which meant that when he’d been Sonic’s age, food had probably been the most amazing thing in existence. Besides, it was strangely interesting, the way Sonic talked about it. Maybe it was because he’d never had food he both enjoyed and didn’t feel guilty about, but he went into incredible detail when describing different tastes that he liked. But surprisingly, sugar was only ‘okay’. He didn’t even have particular feelings about chocolate.

“I’m sorry, buddy, I’m not sure we can be friends anymore,” Tom said, making sure the irony dripped off every word just in case. “There is nothing better than a double-glazed chocolate doughnut with sprinkles and cream.”

Sonic made a face. “My teeth feel like they’re melting just from the sound of that thing.”

“So alien hedgehogs have no taste. Interesting.”

Meanwhile, the hot pepper was, apparently, the best thing to have happened to cuisine.

“One day, I wanna go to Mexico, and try like, all the chilli,” Sonic gushed. “And then, I heard about this one place, it’s in America but I dunno which state or town or whatever, they grow the hottest chilli in the world. It’s called the reaper. How _cool_ is that? The _reaper_. Apparently, it’s so hot that it put a guy in _hospital_!”

Talking about food turned into talking about travel. Sonic was a little hesitant at first, reluctant to admit he ever wanted to leave Green Hills again. But he was curious about other places. Other countries and people. He talked about running along the Great Wall and up the Pyramids and wished he could do it again without exploding bits.

Whoever Sonic grew up to be, Tom realised, he was going to grow past this sleepy little town. He had that tone, the same tone so many kids had in Green Hills. You got to recognise it after a while.

There were some kids, like Tom had been himself, who moaned and complained about Green Hills. They all claimed they couldn’t wait to get out and live their own lives. But the truth was, they would never really leave. Even if they tried—if they went off to college and started careers—they always ended up coming back when they had a family of their own.

And then there were other kids. Kids who said they loved their town, but you knew… deep down, you knew… there was more for them. When they left, they all promised to come back for every holiday. But then they’d miss an Easter. Something would come up at Christmas. Birthdays would turn into phone calls.

It wasn’t personal. They just… needed more. More people. More noise. More excitement.

Sonic needed more.

But he’d convinced himself he needed to hide away, so he had, and he’d even managed to convince himself he was happy. He’d found things to love and enjoy, and told himself it was enough.

He’d been happy, eating fish and scraps from garbage cans, or stealing what he couldn’t get otherwise. He didn’t need fresh or safe food. He didn’t feel bad about taking things. He was fine.

He’d been happy, with only himself and people who didn’t even know he was there for company. He didn’t need anyone to acknowledge him. He didn’t need anyone else to love him. He had the townsfolk to watch.

And now, he was convincing himself he was _still_ happy. He was happy here, trapped in a tiny town that couldn’t keep up with him.

One day, Tom knew, Sonic was going to stop lying to himself. And when that happened, he wasn’t going to be able to stay in Green Hills for long.

It was sad, but… you never mourned those kids. Not really. They had better lives to live.

When things started to get dark, they packed up. They had managed to catch a couple of small fish, but Sonic still dashed out into the lake and waited.

“Okay, so we want one that’s bigger than these, but not huge,” Tom coached him. “The biggest ones always get away by the skin of their teeth.”

“I don’t think these fish have teeth,” Sonic pointed out, just to be annoying, so Tom ignored it.

“One about this big, if you can,” he said, gesturing with his hands. “And remember, I had a bigger one on the line, and we both struggled with it together. It almost dragged us in, it was so strong.”

“But that one isn’t this one. Why bother with the story if we’re gonna bring back a big fish anyway?”

Tom shook his head. “Sonic. I don’t think you understand. The fishing trip isn’t over unless you’ve tried to convince a little woman—”

“Ooh, I’m telling Maddie you called her that.”

“Don’t you dare, blue butt!” he snapped, before continuing, “—you have to convince everyone at home that you _almost_ caught a real whopper. Understand?”

“Not in the slightest, but sure,” he said, and then suddenly blurred, snatching a fish out of the water that was as big as his head. “How’s this?”

It was twice as big as anything in their bucket. It would do.

Out here in the woods, you didn’t really get sunsets. The sun didn’t turn glorious red or give a big show the way it did when rising – the sky just got progressively darker. But they still paused in packing up the truck to watch the last of the light dip behind the trees. Once it was gone, and Tom had turned back to making sure the ice box was secure, Sonic hesitated another few moments before looking at him.

“So, hey um… thanks,” he said awkwardly. “For today. I know you have a lot on, so this was a thing. But thanks.”

“No, it was a good day,” he agreed, tossing him a smile. “We’ll have to do it again.”

Sonic grinned, and then zipped off to finish grabbing the last of their stuff.

When they were done, and he was climbing into the truck, it was Tom to suddenly pause and look over.

It really had been a good day. They hadn’t done anything, but they’d talked. They hadn’t talked about anything important, but he still felt like he’d learned a lot. And he was relaxed. He felt good. He felt warm… proud… it had been a good day.

He reached over and thumped his hand down on Sonic’s head, pushing a thumb against his ear even though it immediately tried to flick away from him. “It’s a promise, right?” he asked. “Same time next year?”

For a second, Sonic just stared at him, all wide eyed shock, before he abruptly broke out in his widest grin yet and nodded as well as he could with Tom’s hand still on his head. “Yeah! Let’s do it!”

“Let’s call it a tradition,” he said with a wink, and then pulled his hand back to focus on the drive.

Until Sonic grew up, and maybe past that. It had been just one good day of many, he was sure.

**Author's Note:**

> The 48 are a collection of unfinished and unedited fics that I have on my hard drive, posted to Ao3 for people's general bemusement. The Sonic 2020 collection is me slowly working my way through an old LiveJournal challenge (badly) called 15 Tables because writing that is not about politics and drama is good stress relief. This one especially, which falls under the table called 'Fluff'.
> 
> Side note, I have always found it endearing that in American media, Sonic loves fishing. I know why, but I still love it.


End file.
